Second Sons and Younger Twins
by ariel2me
Summary: Coming second from his mother's womb, a few heartbeats after his twin brother, Jason, had denied [Tyland] the glory of lordship and the gold of Casterly Rock, leaving him to make his own place in the world. (Fire & Blood) He often dreamed of a mysterious land beyond the Sunset Sea, where the twin coming out second from his mother's womb was said to be counted as the older.


He often dreamed of a distant and mysterious land beyond the Sunset Sea, where the twin coming out second from his mother's womb was said to be counted as the older. The older twin, mindful of his duty to look after his younger sibling, would allow the younger twin to come out first, to come out safely from their mother's womb into the world, before pushing his own way out.

 _You first, little brother. I'll come out after you, after you are safely born._

The image evoked and conjured grand notions of chivalry, gallantry and brotherly love, a far cry from the fierce and desperate race to be the first, to be the first coming out of a mother's womb. The race Tyland had lost to his twin brother Jason, even before he knew that there _was_ a race to be won, even before he knew that losing this race would determine and define far too much of his life.

* * *

In the land where coming out first was counted as being the older, Jason was the heir and Tyland merely the spare. To avoid confusion, the maester attending the birth had made sure that the twin who came out first was swaddled in crimson – Lannister color for the heir to Casterly Rock – while the twin who came out second was swaddled in white, the usual color for swaddling clothes.

Later, after a thorough examination of both babes, the maester would discover a small birthmark in the shape of a half-moon behind Jason's right ear. _The mark of the lion, on my heir,_ the Lord of Casterly Rock would proudly declare when he was told, though the birthmark did not resemble anything lion-like in even the most ingenious or far-fetched imagination.

Later still, when he was giving the now half-grown twins their lessons on the reign of Jaehaerys the Conciliator, the same maester would share with them the rumor that King Jaehaerys' twin nieces Princess Aerea and Princess Rhaella had been swapped by their lady mother after the death of Maegor the Cruel. Perhaps, the maester speculated, it was done because Dowager Queen Rhaena believed that the real Princess Aerea would be much happier living her life as a septa, and the real Princess Rhaella was more suited to be the heir to the Iron Throne, despite coming out second from her mother's womb.

"Perhaps Ty and I were swapped as well, when we were babes in swaddling clothes," Jason had mused.

"That would not have been possible," the maester had insisted. "Tyland does not have the mark of the lion."

* * *

He _envied_ his twin brother, envied him with a fierceness that was unrivalled by almost anything else in the known world.

And yet. However. In spite of. Nonetheless. Nevertheless.

He loved his twin brother, loved him with an intensity that still had the power to surprise all these years later. He would feel like the incomplete half of a missing whole, or like a man shorn of all his limbs, should Jason perish before him; of this he had no doubt at all.

The love did not erase the envy, nor did the envy erase the love. They coexisted, uneasily and without peace, like a warring couple in a crumbling marriage.

* * *

He secretly wondered whether it would have been better if they had not been born looking so much alike (that small birthmark aside), and had not grown to look so much alike still. There were other twins in the world who looked no more alike than mere brothers, who would never be mistaken for one another.

Tyland and Jason had the same wavy golden hair, the same green eyes flecked with brown they both liked to claim was gold, even the same pointed and slightly freckled nose. They even used to have the same smile, insisted their lady mother, before Tyland's smile grew pinched and Jason's grin grew wider.

If they were the same, then why were they _not_ the same?

* * *

Princess Rhaenyra had no real interest in either one of them; that much was clear. But it amused her nonetheless to watch the Lannister twins compete for her attention, and she was eager to egg them on to try to best one another, for the supposed prize of her hand in matrimony, the prize she never had any intention of bestowing on either one of them.

Or at least, this was how Tyland saw the matter. Jason insisted that it had all been in his feverish imagination. "You are too quick to take offense, Ty, and too quick to feel slighted. The princess meant no harm, I'm sure."

The world had always been a sunny place for Jason, so it was no wonder that his outlook was equally bright and shining. First sons need not be prickly proud or grasping, for their place in the world was assured from the moment of birth. They need not be wrecked by doubt and insecurity.

* * *

Tyland saw her first, before Jason ever did. Johanna Westerling. Lady Johanna, the only daughter and the pride and joy of Roland Westerling, Lord of the Crag.

She mistook him for his twin. "Ser Jason," she greeted him, with a half-curtsy and an almost smile. "My father has told me much about you, ser."

He did not immediately correct her mistake, as he had always done before with others. His pride would not have allowed him to pretend to be his twin brother. But this time, _this_ time, he allowed the mistake to stand, allowed Lady Johanna to believe that she was conversing with the older twin, with the heir to Casterly Rock. They spoke at length about everything and anything under the sun; or at least, that was how it seemed to Tyland at the time.

Jason laughed, when the mistake, and Tyland's subsequent failure to correct it, were brought to his attention. Johanna did not.

Jason was amused. Johanna was, understandably, _furious_.

"If I am to make my own place in the world," Tyland told his lord father, "then I must do it away from Casterly Rock."

Away from shadows that never slept, that loomed large like a colossal rock.


End file.
